Darn Kids With Their Music
by Chikorita-Trainer1
Summary: Tim and Damian bond over music. Inspiration taken from images of Tim Drake in the 90s, wearing various band t-shirts. Rated T for language.


**Darn Kids With Their Music**

Chikorita-Trainer1  
K+

Disclaimer: I don't own Batman or any of the bands' songs that I mention in this story.  
A/N: It's been a while since I wrote a story; over a year. Inspiration is tricky like that. This is based on the experiences I've had with my older sister, and how she introduced me to the music that I love to this day.

Tim was glad to be home. Those months he'd spent off-world had felt like an eternity. Now he was back with his family, Bruce was about to be married, life was good. Well, as good as life can be for a Bat.

The teen was walking down the hall to his bedroom one evening, when he heard heavy metal coming from another room. Absentmindedly nodding his head to the beat, he followed the sound until he could hear the lyrics more clearly. He started mouthing the words, and eventually actually singing along, lightly.

" _That's why you're feeling so...UNHOLY!"_ he sang softly. Then he poked his head into Damian's room. The child was sitting on his bed with his laptop open and a pencil and notebook by his side. "I didn't know you liked KISS," Tim observed, amused. Damian paused the music.

"I don't," he said, almost embarrassed. "Well, I like THIS song," he admitted. Tim sat down on the bed beside his little brother. "Kind-of…hits close to home for me, you know?"

"What are you talking about?" asked Tim, already knowing the answer, but just trying to be nice.

" _I'm_ unholy," said Damian.

"You are not!" Tim told him.

"Well, at least HALF-unholy," Damian suggested.

" _No, no, no, you're not,"_ Tim laughed, putting a hand on Damian's shoulder. "You're a good person."

"Tt," went Damian. _"Of all the people…"_ he muttered.

"What are you doing?" asked Tim, noting the list Damian was compiling.

"I'm just making a list of songs I want to buy off iTunes," Damian explained. "Been listening to random stuff, just to see what I like."

"Uh-huh," said Tim, scanning the list. "You know, I have a lot of these songs on CDs. You don't have to waste your money. We could just put the CDs on your iTunes."

"Really?" said Damian, looking up. "I didn't know people still bought CDs."

"Well, they're from my high school days," said Tim. "And I still have them. Come on, bring your computer into my room."

"OK," said Damian, unplugging the charger from the wall and carrying everything, including the list, into Tim's room.

"Just plug it in over there," Tim motioned towards the outlet next to his nightstand. "Let me see the list real quick." Damian handed Tim his notebook. "Alright, you've got KISS, Guns 'n' Roses, Eminem, Green Day…" Tim read aloud.

"Do you have all those bands?"

"Not all, but a lot. So you only like one or two songs by each band?" Tim asked.

"I haven't heard any one whole album. I've just been jotting down what I've heard that I know I like," said Damian. Tim was already up and carefully picking CDs out of the rack in the corner of his room.

"I don't have KISS, so you'll have to buy that yourself. But I have a lot of what you were looking for," said Tim, handing him a CD.

"Why is there a naked baby on this album?!" cried Damian, a little grossed-out.

"I don't know," said Tim. "That was Nirvana's breakout album. It has "Smells Like Teen Spirit" on it."

"I've heard OF that song, but I've never actually heard IT," Damian admitted.

"It's great. It was pretty much the defining song of that generation," said Tim, taking the disc out of the case and putting it in the drive of the laptop. "Wasn't their first album, but "Smells Like Teen Spirit" hit the top of the charts and paved the way for grunge."

"Interesting," said Damian. "Oh my gosh, you can see his dick!" he commented again on the album cover. "How was this legal? Isn't this basically child pornography?"

Tim chuckled and took the case back from Damian. "Apparently not," he said.

"What's…what's this one?" Damian asked, picking up a CD that had a very detailed drawing of a bomb being dropped on people, creating a mushroom cloud.

"Oh, Dookie. This is a good-ass album," said Tim. "Green Day's one of the best punk bands, period."

"Hmm. Certainly have a mature style about them," Damian scoffed.

"There are a lot of good songs on this one," said Tim, turning it over to read the list of tracks.

"Is that the one with…uh…the "Time of Your Life" on it?" Damian asked.

"No. That's uh…that's…where is it?" Tim muttered as he shuffled through the pile of CDs he'd brought over. "That's on Nimrod. That's a good one, too."

"Alright, this is done," said Damian, seeing that all of Nevermind had been imported and ejecting the CD.

"Cool," said Tim. "Play "Smells Like Teen Spirit," you'll like it." Damian selected the track and the familiar, aggressive, haunting riff began to spout from the laptop's speakers.

" _Load up on guns, bring your friends…_ " Tim sang along, nodding his head. Damian smiled. This was nice; bonding over music with his brother.

"I had, uh, the…what's the band that does "Wonderwall"?" he asked.

"Oasis! Love them!" said Tim, getting up to grab a few more of his CDs. "Great band. Broke up too soon."

"What happened to them?" asked Damian.

"Ah, well, the two main guys, Liam and Noel, were brothers, and they were constantly fighting and getting in each other's way. That had a lot to do with it," said Tim.

"I see," said Damian. "And…I need… "Sabotage"…by the Beastie Boys?"

"THAT is kick-ass song," said Tim. "Man, I haven't thought about these songs for years."

"Are the Beastie Boys still together?" asked Damian.

"Um…I think they're all dead," said Tim. "At least three of them are."

"Bummer."

Tim scoffed, and Damian looked up.

"What?"

"Did you just say 'bummer'?"

"Yeah. So?" said Damian.

"It's just…not like you," said Tim.

"You don't know anything about me, Drake," said Damian.

"I know you have good taste in music," Tim smiled.

"I have good taste in everything."

"What's next?" asked Tim.

""Bad Habit" by The Offspring," said Damian.

"I love that one. That whole album is great, though. You should put the whole thing on your iPod."

"OK," said Damian. "I also need "I Fought the Law and the Law Won.""

"The cover or the original?" asked Tim.

"Oh. I didn't know it was a cover. Who was the original?" asked Damian.

"Hang on," said Tim, picking up his phone. "Siri, who originally did "I Fought the Law and the Law Won"?"

"Here's what I found on the web for 'Who originally did I fought the law and the law won," said the A.I.

"The Bobby Filler Four," said Tim. "But you probably want the version by The Clash."

"I guess so," said Damian. "Do you have them?"

"You bet," said Tim, getting up to grab more CDs. "But don't play it around Alfred—he hates this stuff."

"Why?" asked Damian.

"Something about being ashamed that dirty punk rock comes from the classy country of England."

"Oh, like they don't have white trash in other countries?" scoffed Damian.

"I know, right?" said Tim. "The Osbournes, anyone?"

"Who?"

"Ozzy Osbourne of Black Sabbath. Oh, you'd love Black Sabbath. I don't have any of their albums, though. So, you'll have to buy them yourself. But in the early 2000s he and his family were on a reality show, just about their lives, and he's like…it's a miracle the man is still alive, with all the drugs he's done in his life. But his wife is this trash-bag harpy and his kids are fat slobs. But they all have British accents, so naturally you'd just THINK they're classy."

"A common misconception," said Damian.

"Oh, like we should talk," said Tim. He and Damian laughed.

Hours later, the boys were still importing lots of CDs onto Damian's iTunes account, when Bruce came plodding down the hall.

Damian was hard at work studying the lyrics of each CD booklet when Tim turned up the volume of the laptop and said "Aw, here comes the best part, D!"

" _Drivers are rude. Such attitude. When I show my piece, complaints cease,"_ Bruce heard from Tim's room. _"Something's odd. Feel like I'm God, you stupid, dumb-shit GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKER!"_

"Um, excuse me?" he said, entering the room. "Oh, you're listening to music!" he laughed.

"Yeah," said Damian.

"I heard you two screaming obscenities and I thought you must be trying to kill each other again," Bruce chuckled.

"We've never tried to kill _each other_. Only _he_ has tried to kill _me,"_ Tim corrected. "Multiple times, by the way."

"You broke my frickin' nose, Drake!"

"You cut my line! You could have killed me THEN, you little shit!" Tim shot back. Bruce smiled, because he could tell his sons were merely teasing each other; not actually fighting.

"What are you boys still doing up?" he asked.

"We're just rocking out," said Tim.

"That's nice," said Bruce. "But it's late. And Damian has school tomorrow. Why don't you two wrap it up and get some sleep?"

"We will. G'night, Bruce," said Tim.

"Goodnight, boys."

"What time is it?" asked Damian. Glancing at his phone, Tim answered

"1:33."

"Yeah, I should get to bed. We can do more of this tomorrow." Tim looked and noticed that Damian had been collecting a stack of CDs they had already imported, that now rested by his side.

"If you want to hang on to those, you can," said Tim.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I've owned them for years. You can have them." Damian's expression changed from suspicious to elated.

"Thank you," he said.

"You really like this stuff, huh?" asked Tim.

"Yeah. I really like the punk bands. Angry, aggressive stuff, you know?" said Damian.

"I got you," said Tim. "Say, you know what? I've got some t-shirts around here that probably don't fit me anymore. You want them?"

"Are they…related to—"

"Yeah, they're band tees. Hang on, let me find them," said Tim, opening his dresser's bottom drawer and digging through the contents. "Yeah, here's my Green Day one," he said, tossing the black shirt with green lettering to Damian. "I think I've got a Nirvana one, too. In here somewhere…"

Within a few minutes, Tim had successfully extracted all his band tees from his drawer, and had passed them on to Damian.

"Thank you," said Damian. "This was kind-of fun."

"Yeah, we should listen to stuff more often," said Tim.

"Well, goodnight," said Damian, carrying his shirts, laptop and stack of CDs back to his room.

"Goodnight, Damian," said Tim.

A few minutes later, Tim joined Damian in his room, holding the kid's iPhone.

"Hey," he said. "You left this in my room."

"Oh, thanks," said Damian. It would be pretty silly to create a big iTunes library if he didn't have the device to put it on. "I was just reading about Oasis."

"What about them?" asked Tim, sitting on the bed.

"Just…how they really got on each other's nerves, and had a few physical altercations as well."

"Hahahahaha!" laughed Tim. "That's an understatement."

"I don't want—" Damian stuttered. "I don't want….that for us."

"Huh?"

"I don't want us to break up like that," said Damian. "I don't want our family to split up…over stupid fights and disagreements."

"That's pretty much inevitable in this family," said Tim. Then he saw Damian's worried expression. "But we always come back together." Damian smiled. "We're not going to end up like the Gallaghers. I promise."

Tim couldn't resist it; he affectionately ruffled his little brother's hair. And surprisingly, Damian didn't try to kill him for doing it.

"Thank you for sharing your music with me, Drake," said Damian. Tim smiled.

"No problem, Little D. It was fun."

"Goodnight, Tim."

"Goodnight, Dami."

THE END

Please review, thanks.


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